


Yoghurt and A Table

by MadameMorganLeFay



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameMorganLeFay/pseuds/MadameMorganLeFay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Uh huh.” Brian leaned forward on his elbows, eyeing the younger man up and down as though someone might appreciate a delicious meal... before devouring it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yoghurt and A Table

“The store had a four for one deal on blackberry yoghurt, so I figured I’d make use of it,” Justin was saying whilst unloading groceries onto the kitchen table. 

Brian, for his part, pretended not to listen as usual; shopping or anything food-related did not interest him in the slightest unless there was some allusion to fucking involved. As far as he was concerned, coupons were nothing more than scraps of colourful paper designed to make the customer feel satisfied when they waved it under the sales assistant’s nose at the till. No, he could not care less, so he flicked to the next page of his porno mag loudly as a hint. 

“Coupons are great,” his boyfriend continued, blissfully unaware of the gesture. That was typical, of their relationship; he could have sworn neither one of them really paid much attention to each other besides sex. In a more sane universe, refusing to answer would be taken as a lack of interest; for Justin, it was a cue to continue babbling. “This past week we’ve saved around fifteen bucks on food.”

_Who’s the “we”?_

“…and if we save twenty bucks more we get fifteen percent off all tins of soup when you spend two bucks or more.”

Brian _still_ remained impressively concentrated on his magazine, trying to drown out the optimistic chirping going on in the background. Another loud flick and he was launched into page fifty-eight, where three tanned and oiled Adonis’ wrestled about on a gym mat. Now that was eye candy. And… upon studying the glossy page closer, he remembered with a smile that he’d had all three of them- two at the same time- no sooner than last Friday night. Wasn’t it a small world?

“…do you want to eat for dinner?”

“Huh…” Brian murmured noncommittally, thumbing another page. Now for some beautiful twinks in neon coloured thongs- an eyesore in the normal world, but cast them under the heat, thump and blaring hot lights of Babylon and they were a fucking delight. His predatory hazel eyes zeroed in on the lean, dark-skinned man in the middle, who was holding a tub of yoghurt with one eyebrow raised suggestively. 

“Had him.”

“Are you reading that awful porn magazine again? Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

 _I've been trying not to._ Only slight guilt tore his eyes away from the page.

“Uh… you saved dough at the grocery store and… what do I want for dinner? Tuna pasta.”

He tried not to smile when Justin looked a little gobsmacked. Besides, a hint of an idea was forming in his mind: yoghurt… Now _that_ was fucking innovative- even by his standards. The thought of a tempting trail of sweet cream, sliding down a lean, smooth body- waiting for a hot tongue to devour it- made his cock twitch violently. 

And hadn’t Sunshine just mentioned some ridiculous deal on the stuff at the grocery store? This couldn’t be more opportune timing to play out this new fantasy than... At that point, Brian was more interested in what his boyfriend (or thereabouts) was doing; emptying a bag of fusilli pasta and tuna steaks. Dinner. But he was entirely hungry for some other form of entertainment, which was why his eyes traveled slowly from the mundane scene to a stack of blackberry yoghurts almost teetering off the edge of the kitchen table. 

From there it was back to undressing Justin with his eyes and imagining him writhing on a bed of yoghurt, moaning as Brian’s serpentine tongue wove a trail of warm moisture all over pert, pink nipples…

“Tuna in brine or sunflower oil?”

“Sunflower Oil,” he replied with a predatory smile that went unnoticed. “Oh- and loads of tomato sauce, basil, olives and pepper.”

“You got it!” Justin enthused with a smile- evidently surprised at the specifications. “Good thing I bought all those ingredients!”

“Uh huh.” Brian leaned forward on his elbows, eyeing the younger man up and down as though someone might appreciate a delicious meal before devouring it. His meticulous gaze missed nothing; not the silky blond hair hanging loosely off Justin’s forehead, the bright, optimistic eyes, tiny hairs above succulent lips, his delectable neck, his lean torso and artistic fingers… The familiar stirrings of desire began at the pit of Brian’s empty stomach- like a creaky clockwork coming to life after lubrication; he was hungry. Yet it was not going to be tuna pasta that would sate his raging lust. 

It was this damn coupon-loving ray of Sunshine.

“Can I have a yoghurt, Justin?”

“Sure…”

With subtle, eager fingers, Brian slowly unpeeled it, polished off the top and then dug in slowly. He was an excavator, digging for treasure and upon retrieving his spoon from the tempting swirl of purple and white, he was sure to moan appreciatively as he savoured the contents of his spoon. 

But of course; his tongue and lips were one of his best features after his cock- anyway, who could resist him- Brian Kinney? As expected, Justin glanced up with a nervous smile, before quickly focusing his attention on a bag of rice.

 _Too_ quickly. 

So Brian dug in again and this time was careful to suck the yoghurt off his spoon, knowing that Justin would be fighting within himself not to look up again. But how weak his boyfriend was- how easily Sunshine yielded to carnal desires! Hesitant blue eyes flickered upwards again and lingered on the ebb and flow of his lips with a hungry expression- all before he seemed to realize once more that there were groceries to be unpacked. Brian smiled once more, licked his mouth in anticipation of the pleasures to be explored very soon.

“Why Sunshine,” he drawled in his huskiest tone, “Wouldn’t you like some yoghurt too?”

“Uh. Later.” Frantic fingers scrabbled over some tins- Justin nearly dropped the lot. Panic, Brian reasoned in his mind, trying not to laugh- panic meant his boyfriend was losing his touch. Meant Sunshine was contemplating total and utter submission. The message had been received and understood much faster than back in the good old days when Justin couldn’t tell Boy Toy from Meat Hook. Sex was in the air- and yoghurt was involved. They both knew it; the only question was who broke first- and how fast. 

“You seem _awfully_ keen to put away all these groceries. Sure there’s nothing on your mind?”

At this, the restless fingers gave up on trying to regroup the tins and Justin looked up a little more sharply than before. 

“Could you stop rolling your tongue all over that, or whatever it is you are doing? It’s really distracting.”

Brian responded the only way he wanted to; by trailing his tongue agonizingly slowly all the way along his bottom lip, crossing the corner and completing the same crawl along the top. He heard Justin breathe out slowly, presumably trying to rid his mind of all the evil temptations that had invaded it. Haha, as if that were possible! He was the fucking Sex Master, for Christs Sakes! 

“Why don’t you stop trying to be a fucking priest and come over here- preferably now? Sounds fair to me.”

“Demanding sex always sounds fair to you.”

Brian took a small pause from his smouldering seduction to laugh a little. As much as he hated to admit it, he did secretly enjoy Justin’s surly retorts- which was rather astonishing seeing as he had never contemplated sleeping with someone who didn’t always worship the ground he walked on. To be more precise, he both hated and almost... _liked_ how cocky Justin was- maybe because it reminded him of himself, or maybe... it was fucking attractive. Whatever. Just one glimpse of his chin, tilted in defiance and Brian felt a flood of desire he'd never known before. Every single time. And unfortunately, his inherent weakness in having a boyfriend was known to more than a select few.

Was he becoming a sap?

Justin absolutely loved him. But he was to learn that quite apart from a lovesick damsel, he had a shrewd manipulator on his hands- who wouldn’t take bullshit. 

This was bad news for the King of Bullshit.

There was still one weapon he could wield: sex. Exercise of the more intimate kind was what kept Justin running after him like a puppy day after day, rain or shine. Sex was the alarm clock in the morning, the bed time story at night. Sex killed time and quarrels. Sex was how they showered. Sex was... Brian Kinney. Without it, they might just have been two random, mismatched guys who'd need to force themselves to get along with each other. Instead, they were... dynamite, and Brian knew it all too well. 

“You know if you don’t come to me… I’m going to have to come to you… And we both know what happens when I do…”

Justin apparently did not need further persuasion, Brian concluded with satisfaction- even if his boyfriend was scanning him up and down as though he were checking for a concealed weapon. 

“Good boy.”

“Stop saying that; it’s so patronising.”

“Temper, temper, Sunshine! I can’t help being horny--” He grabbed hold of Justin lazily, pulling him in until they were inches apart. “And you can’t help being weak in the flesh…” Whatever else he might have said was lost in a feverish kiss, tongues twisting and swirling in between. Brian smiled into the caress when he felt Justin’s arms snake around his neck almost immediately- there was nothing like an eager playmate; it got him so hard in the blink of an eye. His lover's skin was always so soft and warm like a fucking pillow and even though he smelt like cheap deodorant and acrylic paint, the scent managed to take on huge erotic significance every time Justin's body was flush against his. Shit.

 _I'm so fucked for this..._

“Mmm, Brian…" Justin murmured when they broke apart briefly, slipping his hands underneath his shirt. "Tastes like yoghurt.”

“Four for one deal, huh?” Brian murmured into his mouth with a small chuckle. “That’s a lot of cream for one man to handle, no?” In response, he felt Justin’s lips trailing the length of his neck and shoulders. 

“You wanna use food? That’s so kinky…”

“Kinky” is such a judgmental word; I prefer… wildly creative. Beautifully vulgar. Wonderfully crazy.”

Brian tried to keep a straight face as Justin gave him a perfect imitation of his very own, trademark "what the fuck are you talking about" face. He felt a little cheated that Justin could pull it off so well; was even tempted to remind his lover that the expression was copyright. 

Instead, he gave into his raging hormones and kissed him breathless.

* * *

Surrender was imminent.

Justin had always known this from the very beginning, but that didn’t stop him hoping otherwise. 

He was lying on his back, squirming like a worm, skin in contact with the cold, smooth table surface. Brian was standing close enough for their groins to press against his, gently tipping a creamy stream of blackberry yoghurt down his chest. Plump lips would soon follow, enclosing Justin’s hard nipples… Just the sensation of lips on sensitive skin drove him crazy. His whole body was a fireball of sensation; it seemed every spot Brian hit was the cusp of a sensitive nerve, releasing hundreds of pleasure endorphins into his body. 

If the reasons that he tumbled into bed with Brian most nights could be boiled down to just one, it was simply that his lover was so thorough. Justin often thought of their sexual congress as a wrestling match. Each was battling to pin the other down before that golden bell rang, ecstasy racing through their bodies… A year ago, when he was eager and unskilled, he entertained the notion that he could easily resist Brian’s skilled technique- now he knew the best he could do was delay in the inevitable- whether it be by biting his lip, trying to overpower his opponent or abstaining… Brian overcame them all.

That was when he knew surrender was imminent. 

After all, his clenched fingers were lost in great tufts of Brian’s hair, his muscles were stretched to the limit, pushing his body up to greet the onslaught. There was no question that two different trains of thought also lost inside Justin’s mind- one said he should fight, the other reminded him how much he loved submitting. True to the letter, he was moaning Brian’s name as more sweet liquid dribbled down his chest with a hot, pulsing, athletic tongue to follow. This time, the bold swipes went further, all the way down to his navel- and he gasped, pressing Brian's head to his stomach. God, that felt fucking amazing! How on earth... 

And that was only foreplay.

Four tubs were finished before Brian leaned back with that irrepressible smirk of his, reached into his pocket and withdrew a tiny square of silver plastic. 

“You’re going to fuck me?” Justin breathed, barely getting over the first round. 

“No, I think condom wrappers are pretty- of _course_ , I’m going to fuck you!”

Perhaps Justin would have said something more had not his gaping lips been shut off by Brian’s for a few unconscious moments. He was gasping when they broke away, groin tingling in anticipation of what was to come. 

“Lube…” he managed to whisper. “Need some lube.”

“Fear not, Sunshine…” Brian disappeared and was back within seconds, waving a tube right under Justin’s nose. “For ease of access and peace of mind.”

Justin laughed nervously as he was roughly rolled onto his front, his jeans were yanked down.

“Easy…” he protested feebly. There was no response until he felt Brian leaning over to nuzzle his shoulder. “Please, Brian. I want to be able to… walk in a straight line afterwards.” 

He felt his lover laugh into his neck, shivered at the light contact. “You know me, Sunshine; I can show some restraint from time to time.”

“That’s a hilarious- argh!”

The first thrust was always the shock- a decisive, unapologetic breach of his defences, a jolt to the senses. Brian’s version of taking it easy was withdrawing at a delicate pace that left Justin whimpering into the table; not long afterwards he was back to clenching his fingers, squeezing his eyes, biting his lips. He had learnt by know that the first stages were always exceedingly methodical, but once Brian had reached a certain number of thrusts, all hell broke loose. The mechanical hips thumping against his backside suddenly transformed into a life of their own, bone melted into liquid grinding at liberty. Justin could no longer prepare himself for the strength and severity of each attack because he had lost his mind. He didn’t know whether he was even himself, or just a floating ball of pleasure, crying out over and over. 

Time lost all meaning, except during the countdown until his growing spark would explode into a flame of passion, all control lost. That moment approached fast. He was reaching the stage where he began to thrust himself back against Brian, creating even more friction and making his lover gasp louder. Now he could feel Brian’s hands begin to explore the length and breadth of back, his hair was pulled. Vicious bites peppered his shoulders. His neck protested when it was yanked back to provide Brian with a searing kiss- testament to the heightened anticipation of an explosion into Paradise. Their wet lips locked together, regardless of the painful angle. Justin wished he could wrap his arms around Brian’s neck but the latter practically had him pinned to the table.

“Please,” he groaned, barely able to breathe, “Do it to me… Make me come…”

As if by magic, a volcano erupted somewhere inside of him, sending shuddering waves right through every single nerve. A beautiful pyroclastic flow of his own load burst free of his cock whilst he felt the rubber inflate inside his ass as his lover reached his peak and tumbled over into freedom. Brian was lying on his back- never was the increased contact more welcome at that point. Because he was suddenly superhuman, riding on clouds, climbing mountains, crashing waves...

* * *

“What the _fuck_?”

Brian was- _had_ been- panting against Justin’s back when heard an insistent knocking at the door. His first instinct was to ignore it, but then all kinds of worst-case scenario’s cropped up: someone he fucked coming back to cop another one, that idiot from his local takeaway, The Munchers…

With a string of curses, he withdrew, cleaned himself up and decided to confront the visitor head on... But looking presentable, for once. He hadn't forgotten being arrested after fucking someone in an elevator- that had been pretty fucking embarrassing. 

“Mrs Taylor!”

What a great time to appear. Brian moved to his right, ensuring she could definitely not see her beloved son half naked, panting over the kitchen table. First impressions were everything. And now to play it extra cool to buy Justin some time…

“What brings you to my humble abode?”

“Not so humble,” the older woman laughed, brushing back her hair. “Justin left his favourite sketchbook at home, so I thought I’d bring it over.”

“Great; I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

“He’s… _here_ , isn’t he?”

“Just…ah, sleeping. Tired after… drawing, I guess. Or painting. Or collage.” What the fuck was he babbling about? He was so used to being brutally honest that he'd forgotten how to lie convincingly. How ironic.

So he should have expected something to crash loudly behind him; he didn't and winced instead, avoiding Mrs Taylors disapproving frown. Okay- so his alibi was screwed. What next? Ah yes; he could jump in, pretending to be surprised...

“Ah! Looks like he’s awake! Hey, Justin- your mother’s just brought over your sketchbook!”

“Is he alright?” Mrs Taylor whispered. “He always gets so annoyed when he drops things since… you know.”

A momentary frown creased Brian's Botoxed forehead; a shadow of times past. A past he would rather bury under the sand dunes of time. Closing his eyes briefly, he shut the offending images from his mind. A thousand terrible things could happen to him, but none would ever haunt him quite as much as when Justin got bashed... “He’s fine. You’re fine aren’t you, Justin?”

“Uh, yup,” came the hesitant answer. “Ow... ow, ow, fuck…”

“Sweetie?”

“It’s okay, Mom; I’ll live.”

Brian buried his face inside his hands. He couldn’t very well impose restrictions on the time she came to visit because he spent a good proportion of his day engaged in some kind  
of sexual activity. In such a case, she would be walking in on the most daring and inventive scenes with a variety of willing participants that would do little to soften her heart towards him. Despite their rocky relationship, he liked Mrs Taylor, and was secretly striving to appear more appropriate in her eyes- at least when she was around. Maybe it was a by product of having a cold-hearted frigid bitch for a mother that he gravitated to someone as caring as Justin's mother, or maybe he was too fucking mad. He didn't care which- either way, he could tell the best political move was to remain in her good books. So the last thing worth doing was pulling back his door to see Justin wiping yoghurt and… something _else_ off his body, scrambling back into his clothes and tiptoeing about like a cat on a hot tin roof thanks to the ache in his ass. 

“Bit cranky after a nap, aren’t you, honey?”

“What nap?”

“You were sleeping,” Brian cut in quickly. “Honey.”

“Ah, right- yes! Just… woken up, in fact.” Another crash and some even more colourful language. 

“Justin what on earth is going on?” Mrs Taylor demanded, sidestepping Brian to peer inside. “You don’t sound like you can even walk in a straight line! Were you out drinking last night?”

“You don’t wanna know,” Brian muttered under his breath. And louder: “Yes, why do things keep falling to the floor, Justin?”

“Tins of tuna and shit just stacked precariously…everywhere, you know.”

Mrs Taylor frowned, raised and eyebrow at Brian, and then stepped back. Brian let out a small sigh of relief, as she pursed her lips, shaking her head. That “motherly” expression- resignation to the fact that sons would never be understood. 

“Just as long as you are alive…”

“Yup! Ow.”

Brian bit his lips to keep from smiling. Good thing he knew a couple of people who did deep rectal massages else Sunshine would be confined to his bed all day. 

“Why does he keep--”

“Is something hard hurting you, honey?” Brian cut in, still trying not to laugh. “Why don’t you just sit down until the pain goes away?”

“Don’t call me honey, I’m not two- ouch. Ah.”

“See you later, Justin!” Mrs Taylor called inwards, completely lost. “Hope the _ouch_ gets cured!”

“I’ll see to that.”

* * *

Brian laughed, shaking his head as he picked up stray tins of food from around his kitchen. “Your Mom’s kind of sweet… And you're a fucking menace- what the hell were you doing?”

“Guess the bedroom would be a better bet next time.”

“Oh, the table worked alright for me; great friction.”

“Well, it’s not like you were pinned to cold lino; my ass is on fire.”

“No pain, no gain.”

“Said Brian Kinney, who is always top! By the way, your alibi’s suck. Sleeping? That the best you could come up with?”

“It’s called “thinking on the spot.” A lot easier said than done.”

“Given the amount of drugs you consume, I would agree. Still, could be worse, I guess. We do seem to make love at the most inconvenient times- not to mention the worst places. Like over Michael’s car the other night. You were furious when a neighbour snitched on us.”

Brian laughed again, remembering Michael making him hose down the violated car twice whilst vowing to murder him if they ever did that again. Justin had got off relatively lightly- a mere slap on the wrist, which he thought was outrageous.

_It's that damn blond hair and his big, pleading eyes. Fucker._

“In Emmett’s shop between the clothes racks? That was quite a cliff-hanger. He almost cried when he found out I had squirted all over some expensive costumes. I had to cough up $1500 to replace them. I insist that DKNY mini- jacket was only $250, but he wouldn’t listen to me!” 

“Behind the counter at the Diner?” Justin suggested, laughing at the former anecdote. “Debbie showed all the customers the CCTV footage the next day. Then my mom came in for coffee and couldn’t work out why everyone else was killing themselves laughing. I have never been so humiliated in my life.”

“Why? It was our much-celebrated film debut, Sunshine! What about when we fucked in The Munchers kitchen and you had to hide under the table all sweaty and naked until they finished screeching at me for exposing myself where food was being prepared?”

“Thanks for covering for me.”

In an instant, Brian was on the alert. They had crossed into the red zone. Namely, feelings. Honesty, revelations. This was where he stopped talking and his eyes grew wary, as though he suspected someone was spying on him. An alarm bell was sounding off in his head whilst he frantically thought of the most blase thing to say in response: “Who said it was for you?”

Justin smiled impishly and leaned in for a tender, leisurely kiss. “It’s _always_ for me! I’m onto your little game of pretence, remember? Anyway, all those shenanigans have made me hungry.”

Ah- now this was safe talk; Brian could understand that, could decipher it accordingly. With a suggestive smile, he leaned back into Justin's personal space. “You up for one more?”

“Not that- I mean _food_ hungry.”

“I guess I could eat,” Brian shrugged, tracing his finger along Justin’s collar. 

“Tuna pasta?” Justin slid onto his lap, hands cupping both sides of his neck. 

“Tuna pasta.”

“Loads of tomato sauce, basil, olives and pepper?”

 _How the fuck did he remember all those things word for word?_ Brian Kinney often insisted that he was never left speechless but where Justin was concerned, this was nothing but a bold-faced lie. His answering thought was cut off by an even gentler kiss that caressed the entirety of his lips. Ridiculously romantic- ugh… and yet he felt himself leaning forward to increase the contact. 

“And what about dessert?”

A radiant smile blocked the streams of evening sunlight filtering through his kitchen window. Or maybe that was his poetic imagination running wild. Whatever the simile was, he was kissing that smile once again, exploring those wild curves of Justin’s lips until he had to break away for air. The reverie was broken- at least for now, but the atmosphere had cooled down from desperately heated to quietly intimate. These were the moments where they stopped being two endlessly horny fuck buddies and transformed (regardless of his considerable reluctance) into Brian and Justin. Two as one, an undeniable bond holding them together. And now his boyfriend wanted to make him dinner. 

He could have protested. He could have decided to flee this dangerously monogamous activity to the safe confines of Babylon. He could simply have announced that he was going to bed. 

Instead he simply leaned onto his elbows and smiled. Tuna pasta for dinner, Justin Taylor for dessert. 

What more could he want?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> **NOTES: This is just a way for me to get down loads of crazy scenes between Brian and Justin in my head without distracting from all my main work. After all the angsty stuff I have been doing, I need a change. Concrit and feedback always appreciated.**


End file.
